


Tonsillitis

by Illdosomething



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Caring Lydia, Caring Scott, Caring everybody basically, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedure, Sick Stiles, Surgery, Tonsillectomy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:12:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illdosomething/pseuds/Illdosomething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What began as a sore throat escalates into something more, and with the medicine prescribed by his doctor not helping, Stiles undergoes a tonsillectomy, and is thoroughly cared for beforehand and afterwards by his family and friends.</p><p>(See Author's Note 5/1/2016)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> By this time you should all know my guilty pleasure is a sick or hurt stiles in need of some comfort, and I adore the sheriff's and Stiles's relationship and it will always be a main component in my stories. I'm not a medical expert and can only do so much research, so bare with me and enjoy!!

It started out with a scratchy throat one morning when Stiles was getting ready for school. John noticed Stiles occasionally rubbing his throat or grimacing each time he swallowed some of his breakfast.

  “You okay, kiddo?” John asked watching as Stiles stroked his throat once more.  

“Yeah, dad. No big deal. Just a sore throat.” Stiles assured his father, getting up from the table and putting his plate in the sink. John followed after him, coffee cup in hand.

  “Do you have a fever?” John asked not waiting for his son to answer, before touching the back of his hand to Stiles’s forehead.  

Stiles whined but didn’t make any action to remove his father’s hand from his forehead.

  “You do feel a little bit warm.” John stated moving his hand to softly cup Stiles’s cheek. Stiles smiled softly at his father then shook his head.  

“Don’t worry, dad. It’s probably nothing.” Stiles declared noticing the worry in his dad’s tone. “I’m going to be late for school.” Stiles expressed before moving away from his father and grabbing his backpack that was on the kitchen counter behind him and putting it on and snapping his car keys from a little key hook mounted on the wall.  

Stiles was half way out the kitchen when his dad called out.

  “Stiles! Don’t hesitate to go to the nurse’s office or call if it gets worse.” John said as he approached his son who was putting his shoes on.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. It will probably go away by tomorrow. I promise I’ll rest when I get home, if that makes you feel better.” Stiles stated as he finished putting his shoes on and opened the front door.  

“Just be careful, kid.” John said. 

 “You got it dad.” Stiles flashed a small smile to his dad before walking out and closing the door behind him.                                                                                                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

 

Stiles praised himself in being right most of the time, but today certainly did not count. By the time fourth period was over he was literally holding onto to Scott and letting his best friend drag him over to his locker. The weakness and aches the racked his body were caused by none other than the fever ravaging throughout it also . On top of that it felt like someone had poured acid directly into his throat so each time Stiles swallowed, tears would prick at the corner of his eyes.

  “I don’t care how okay you think you are, you are going to the nurse’s office.” Scott declared. His best friend, bless his heart, had since second period when his symptoms became aggressive begged Stiles to go to the ‘God damn nurses’s office’. In between periods Scott had helped him to the bathroom to rinse his mouth out and during class Scott focused more on Stiles than the lesson their teacher was going over.  

Stiles gave a less then intelligible sound and let his friend drag his miserable ass to the nurse’s office.   After taking his temperature (101.3) and pressing a tongue depressor then flashing a light into his throat the nurse helped him lay down, covering him with a blanket, before calling his father.   Scott, who refused to leave his friend’s side, kept Stiles company until his father barged into the nurses’s office.

His father took one look at Stiles and sprinted over to his son, ignoring the nurse who had risen up from her seat hoping to talk to his father.  Scott moved from where he was seated to allow the Sheriff more room.

  “Oh, kiddo.” The Sheriff whispered, running a hand through Stiles’s hair, as he leaned over the cot.

  “Hey, dad.” Stiles managed to croak out, relieved his dad was finally there.  

“We’re going to get you all better kiddo, don’t worry. I made an appointment with Dr. Adams on my way here. It’s in half an hour.” John promised, leaning down to place a kiss on his son’s forehead before turning around to talk with the nurse.  

Stiles, although embarrassed at his father’s signs of affection especially in front of the nurse (sadly, Scott had seen John being affectionate with Stiles, more so than the amount of affection he received from his own father), couldn’t have been more happy. If medicine couldn’t treat him, his father would find a way with love and care to do so.  

After his father talked with the nurse, Scott was sent on his way back to class with a pass, leaving with a promise to see Stiles after he was done, and Stiles was helped out of the building and to his father’s patrol car, where he was seated in the passenger seat and another blanket was thrown on top of him.

  Soon enough his dad and him arrived at their doctor’s office, with the Sheriff once again supporting his son out of the car and into the waiting room. He guided Stiles into a chair before going over to the receptionist’s desk to get signed in. His dad came back and sat to his right, where Stiles laid his head upon his dad’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He felt his dad’s fingers through his hair.  

“Rest, buddy. I’ll wake you when your name is called.” John softly spoke.  

Stiles had to be shaken awake, momentarily disoriented before looking at his father who was telling him it was time to go in.   John and Stiles followed the young, nurse who made Stiles step onto a scale and measured his height before ushering them into an exam room, where he sat on the padded table as she took his temperature (101.8), blood pressure and pulse. She left the room after a few minutes, promising that Dr. Adams would be right in.   

“I’ve got to say, Stiles, it’s been a while since having you as a patient. Not feeling to good today, kiddo?” Dr. Adams exclaimed as he walked into the room. He was tall and lean fellow, in his mid-fifties, with dark brown hair that was accompanied with hints of grey, and an ever present smile on his face. He had been the Stilinski’s family doctor since before Stiles was even born, and although Stiles deemed him a “big, ugly, meanie” when he was young and needed shots, Stiles was fond of the doctor and could always count on him to have his back when it came to his father’s diet.

  “He had a sore throat this morning before school and felt slightly warm. By the time he was halfway through school it got ten times worse. His temperature was about 101.3 degrees Fahrenheit and the school nurse said that she noticed his tonsils were swollen and red. He’s weak, also. Fell asleep in the car ride and in the waiting room also, and by the looks of it, he’s about to right now.” John informed the doctor, who wrote it down on Stiles’s chart.  

“Goodness. It does look like his fever is rising, and I’m assuming it hurts to talk, Stiles?” Dr. Adams stated, looking at Stiles who nodded his head. The doctor made a few additional notes before turning on the faucet and washing his hands.  

“Alright, Stiles. Let’s see what’s going on with you.” The doctor spoke and began examining Stiles.

  “Yep, your tonsils are definitely swollen, buddy. I’m also seeing some small patches. I’m going to take a swab of your throat for testing, once I’m all done here, kay.” Dr. Adams declared as he peered into Stiles’s throat with a small scope that had a light on the end.  
  
"Deep breaths for me, kiddo." Dr. Adams said as he pressed the end of his stethoscope to Stiles's bare back. Stiles obeyed and took deep breaths until his doctor was satisfied and moved the stethoscope to his chest and listened to his heart for a few moments.  
  
"Good thing is your lungs sound clear and your heart sounds perfect." The doctor stated and moved to write down something in the chart before turning back towards Stiles.  
  
"If you could lie back for me, buddy." Dr. Adams said as he moved the footrest out and helped Stiles lay back down, placing his head on the pillow.  
  
"I'm just going to lift your shirt. Is that alright, Stiles?" The doctor asked and Stiles gave permission with a nod of his head. Dr. Adams gave his young patient a small smile and lifted Stiles's shirt.  
  
"Tell me if you feel any pain. Here?" The doctor began palpating Stiles's abdomen.  
  
"A little bit, yeah." Stiles answered, unsure if his doctor heard since his voice was so hoarse.  
  
"I see. Okay, you can get up now." The doctor stated after palplating Stiles's abdomen in a few more areas, and pulling his shirt back down, helping Stiles maneuver himself back to his original position.  
  
"Alright, from what I see your tonsils are enlarged, red, and with white patches. The fever, tender lymph nodes, fatigue, and aches lead to an acute tonsillitis. I'm going to go ahead and get a throat culture, and you're going to hate me because of this Stiles but since I'm a so-called 'big, ugly, meanie' I want to draw some blood also for testing."  
  
"You big, ugly, meanie." Stiles managed to speak out and gave a sheepish grin at his father's and doctor's laughs.  
  
The doctor ruffled his hair before once more telling Stiles to open his mouth and Stiles gripped the table as sparks of pain ran through his body when Dr. Adams swabbed his throat.  
  
"I'll go ahead and get this sent over to the lab as quick as possible and a nurse will be in soon to draw some blood. I'll be back in a few guys." Dr. Adams placed the swab in a small tube, grabbed his chart and disappeared out the door.  
  
Right as the door clicked shut, John got up from his chair and walked over to his son, pulling Stiles into a hug. Stiles rested his head on his dad's shoulder, pressing his face into the side of his father's neck.  
  
"I hate being sick." Stiles mumbled and he felt his dad's lips on the side of his head.  
  
"I know kiddo, I know." John murmured softly rubbing his son's back.  
  
John held his son in his arms, waiting for the nurse to arrive, the sound of only their breathing and the clock on the wall filling the otherwise silent room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
“It’s acute bacterial tonsillitis. We’ll start you on an series of antibiotics and hopefully within the next two or three days you’ll start to improve. No school for the rest of the week. He’ll be needing plenty of bed rest, fluids, smooth foods, and I’d recommend some ibuprofen for pain. I’ll send the prescriptions over to your regular pharmacy. Any questions?” Dr. Adams spoke to them about twenty minutes later.  
  
“And what if the treatments don’t work?” John asked, who was currently standing next to Stiles, who was still seated on the table picking at the bandaid placed in the crook of his elbow.  
  
“Hopefully that won’t happen, but if it does I’m afraid to say the only thing is to remove his tonsils, but let’s not think about. Antibiotics usually get the job done, John. If you have any concerns don’t hesitate to call my personal phone number.” Dr. Adams assured the Sheriff. John pursed his lips, then sighed and moved to shake the doctor’s hand.  
  
“Thank you so much, David.” John exclaimed as he shook David’s hand.  
  
“Not a problem, John. I’ve been taking care of your kid since he was born. My only priority is to get him better. I mean it even if it’s in the middle of the night, you call me and I’ll be at your house in no time.” David declared once more.  
  
“Will do.” John answered and moved to help Stiles off the table.  
  
“You guys stay safe, and Stiles let’s pray you get better, kiddo.” David said as he walked with John and Stiles out of the room.  
  
“Bye, Dr. Adams.” Stiles softly called out.  
  
“Get well, kiddo.” Dr. Adams answered back.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
After the visit John drove them back home, helping Stiles into the house and up the stairs into his bedroom. John helped change Stiles out of his clothes and into a pair of flannel pants and white t-shirt. He tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and stayed with him, stroking his hair until he fell asleep which took about less than five minutes. 'God he's worn out.' John had thought to himself as he had watched his son's eyelids drift close, and when seconds later the sounds of Stiles's even breathing confirmed to him son was alseep. He tiptoed out of the room, closing the door carefully behind him, before grabbing his keys once more. He went to the pharmacy while Stiles was asleep and on his way grabbed a few things from the store to help care for Stiles.  
  
It was currently about 4 p.m. when he heard the front door open and close. He was chopping some vegetables for Stiles’s chicken soup when Scott appeared in his line of sight.  
  
“Hey, Scott. Stiles is asleep right now.” John spoke while continuing to chop the celery sticks, pausing to look up at Scott.  
  
“That’s alright, Sheriff. I figured he’d be asleep. Do you need any help, sir?” Scott said as he sat his backpack down near the wall.  
  
“God, Scott, stop calling me that. I’ve put band-aids on your cuts when you were young, taught you how to ride a bike, and helped you through numerous asthma attacks. You’re practically my son, so stop calling me ‘sir’. You make me feel old.” John warmly chided the teen as he finished cutting the celery sticks, and scraped them into the pot with the edge of his knife.  
  
“But, Sheriff, you are old.” Scott retorted back, trying to not laugh when John paused and slowly raised his head, staring at Scott, a look of disbelief on his face. Next thing he knew Scott had a face full of towel, thanks to John.  
  
“After everything I've done for you kid, this is how you repay me.” John stated, before breaking out in a laugh, Scott following suit.

"Do you mind cutting the chicken for me, while I finish the rest of the vegetables? It's on the counter, over there." John asked, pointing towards the chicken with a nod of his head.

"Sure, might as well make myself useful." Scott answered back, moving to wash his hands before starting the task he was assigned to. A silence passed between the two, interrupted with either John asking questions about school or something or other to Scott, or the two merely discussing any topic that came up. Even though the two didn't spend much time together, since anytime Scott came over it was to spend time with Stiles and John's work schedule was never consistent, the two had formed a relationship akin to that of one between a father and son. It was more than likely formed when Scott and Stiles were both twelve years old, and John had managed to get some time off work, which he then decided to spend with his son on a two day camping trip. Without even asking his father's nor Melissa's permission, Stiles had declared that Scott was coming with them, no ifs, ands or buts. Neither John nor Melissa had any objections to Scott going on the trip, and John could still remember how Scott's eyes lit up when Stiles had all but shouted in his face that he was coming camping with them. Unfortunately though, the night before they were heading out, Stiles had succumbed to an awful stomach bug. John was about to call Melissa to tell her that the trip was canceled, when Stiles had literally snatched the phone right out his hands.

"Dad, you can't cancel the trip." Stiles had urged, grabbing onto his father's wrist.

"Buddy, you're too sick to go camping. I promise we'll go another weekend." John had calmly explained to his son, trying to unclasp Stiles's fingers around the phone.

"I don't care about me, but dad, Scott was looking so forward to this trip. He - he said that his father would always promise to take him camping one day, and well that's probably never going to happen now with his dad gone, and I can't ruin this for him, dad, please. You two can go together, and I'll be fine on my own, I promise. Dad, please." Stiles had pleaded with him.

"Kiddo, I'm not going to leave you by yourself especially when you're sick. I'm sure Scott will understand, you know he will." John exclaimed to his son, grabbing him and steering him out of his bedroom and into Stiles's own bedroom. Stiles had grabbed onto the doorway of his bedroom, and pushed himself back turning around to look at his dad.

"Then Melissa can look after me, and Scott can come with you. Please dad, before you object, just call Melissa and talk with her. Please." Stiles had begged before wrapping his arms around his father, and leaning his head on John's chest. John had sighed before wrapping his own arms around his son, and rubbing Stiles's back.

"Okay, kiddo. I'll call Melissa and see what she says, but in the meantime I want you in bed, and I'll need my phone back, thank you very much." John had finally stated, grimacing when his son, out of excitement, nearly crushed his ribs. With Stiles in bed, his phone back in his hands, John had called Melissa and explained the situation at hand. Melissa had expressed that Scott was really looking forward to the trip, and in the end two managed to figure out a plan that included Stiles staying with Melissa while John took Scott on the trip, which was cut to only a two night trip, not the original three night. The next morning around 5 a.m., both John and Stiles had stood on the McCall porch, with Stiles leaning against his father, his pillow underneath his arm, willing to keep his eyes open.

"Hey John, Stiles." Melissa had greeted them as she opened the door, and moved aside to let them in.

"Hey there, Melissa. Is Scott ready?" John addressed back.

"Well, he's in the living room and ready, but isn't sure if he wants to go since Stiles can't." Melissa had explained with a small frown on her face, crossing her arms together. John was about to say something, when it was Stiles that had given a huff and marched his way into the living room.

"Scott! Get yourself together, and into my dad's car. You're not missing this trip, whether you like it or not." Stiles had stated as he walking into the living room.

"But Stiles, I'll feel bad if I go and you can't. You were really looking forward to this also." Scott had answered back.

"Yeah well, my stomach decided not to play nice with me for the time being, so unless you fancy stopping every ten minutes on the car ride so I can either throw up, crap my pants, or God forbid both at the same time, you're going to have to put on your big boy pants and go without me." Stiles had proclaimed to his best friend, who had merely stared at Stiles with a disgusted look before shaking his head, deciding not to argue any further for the sake of learning any more about Stiles's body functions.

A few minutes later Scott's items had been packed into John's car, and with a few final goodbyes, the two were on there way. John had been afraid that the trip was going to be awkward between the two, but to his surprise the two were able to hit it off, talking every now and then or falling into a comfortable silence.

“Jeez, dad, you already replaced me with Scott. I’m sick not dying.” John looked up, drawing away from the memory, to see Stiles leaning against the kitchen doorway, a smile smile on his face..  
  
“Stiles, what are you doing up?" John exclaimed moving around the kitchen to get to his son. Stiles merely shrugged.

"Hey, Stiles." John heard Scott say behind him. He watched as Stiles looked towards Scott, relaxing and grinning towards his best friend.

"I think I can keep an eye on him while you finish. I'm done cutting the chicken up into pieces." Scott stated, giving John a small smile, before grabbing onto Stiles and dragging him up the stairs.

John simply shook his head, chuckling softly, before moving back towards the kitchen to finish cooking.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scott managed to keep Stiles entertained until John finished and he walked into his son’s room with a bowl of chicken soup, a cup of applesauce, some orange juice and Stiles’s medicine.  
  
Stiles was laying flat on his bed, underneath the covers on his phone, and Scott at Stiles’s desk, surfing Netflix on Stiles’s laptop probably deciding on which movie the boys would watch.  
  
“Time to get some food in you, bud.” John exclaimed.  
  
“Dad, leave Scott alone. He’s a big boy, he can feed himself.” Stiles called out and John couldn’t contain the laugh that came out of him and walked toward his son, setting the tray he had carried up on the side table.  
  
“Well you on the other hand, I’m not sure about. Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you up. Scott go help yourself to anything downstairs, buddy, you must be hungry by now.” John said as he helped Stiles get into a sitting position, resting him against the headboard. John grabbed an extra pillow and positioned it behind Stiles’s back.  
  
For the next half hour Stiles managed to get half of the chicken soup down and almost all of the orange juice. He could only manage two spoonfuls of the applesauce before threatening to throw it at Scott’s head if his dad made him eat anymore.  
  
Not as satisfied as he felt he should be, John still claimed it a success and picked up the dirty dishes back onto the tray. He was thankful Stiles took his medicine without complaint and hurried out of the room, after making sure Stiles did not need anything else, and left the boys to themselves.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
John woke up from his nap on the couch at around 9 p.m. with the glow of the TV illuminating the otherwise dark living room. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and turned the TV off and made his way up the stairs. He walked towards Stiles’s bedroom, and noticed that no sound emitted from inside. He opened the door and peered inside. Both boys were fast asleep, Stiles on his bed and Scott in the desk chair. Keeping his movements as quiet as possible, John managed to wake Scott up without alerting Stiles.  
  
“Hey, kiddo. It’s pretty late. I wouldn’t mind you staying overnight, but it is a school night and I’m sure you would prefer your bed then a desk chair.” John whispered as he helped Scott wake up.  
  
“No, that’s fine. Thanks for waking me up.” Scott whispered back and got up from the chair.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sheriff.” Scott said as he walked out of the room.  
  
“Good night, kiddo.” John answered back before moving over to Stiles. He placed his hand softly against Stiles’s forehead and his lips drew in a small frown when he noticed his son's fever was the same as before. He sighed, then kissed his son on the forehead, tucked the blankets securely around him, before closing the lights and heading out of the room. He didn’t close the door, wanting to make sure he could hear Stiles if he called out for him.  
  
He heard the front door close, signaling that Scott left the house. He went down stairs to lock the door, before making his way up the stairs again. He got himself ready for bed, brushing his teeth and changing into his sleepwear.  
  
He sighed as he let his head hit the pillow, feeling the weight of his body’s stress. He turned around and closed his eyes, hoping tomorrow would be better than today.


	2. Author's Note

Hey, all! I know, I know, I haven't updated this or any of my stories in a ridiculously long time :( But, I have never stopped caring about my stories or you guys I promise. I started writing my stories right as I was starting my first year of college, and boy that was bad timing. But things have settled down now a little bit and I only have finals this week and then I'm done with my sophomore year...and then I have summer classes, but I am going to try and focus on my stories too, hopefully write new ones. But, unfortunately to do this, I will be doing some editing on the chapters I have already posted. I'm not changing up the premise at all, but adding a few more things in there. So hang in there you guys! In the meantime, if you want to see something specific in this story or my other ones, tell me and I'll see if there is room to add it in! I'll be back sooner than you think. I even might start editing in a couple of days too since I believe it won't take that long and then I can focus on the new chapters :) Love you all! XOXO


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